When I look at you, I see her
by Mickey Caresen
Summary: Rebekah is a spitting image of her mother. When the twenty-six year old enters the opera house for the first time since it's remodeling, what will happen with her and a certain opera ghost? Reviews are appreciated, but not necessary.
1. Prologue

Prologue

_I grew up listening to my mother's stories of my mysterious "Phantom of the Opera," whom had both tormented her and adored her. When she finally admitted that she loved him, he let her go and marry my father, the Vicomte de Cagny. Because of this, I was conceived and born, so I really must thank the Phantom for my birth. Without him, there would have been no me. And now, without me, there is no him. I followed in my mother's footsteps, except there is no other man, confusion, or hatred._

_Unlike her, I am sure. _

_I am hopelessly in love with _my _Phantom._


	2. Chapter One

**DISCLAIMER!!! I DO NOT OWN PHANTOM OF THE OPERA IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM!! (unless you are talking about Gerard Butler :] I own him)**

Chapter One

"Rebekah!" Christine called from downstairs. She tapped her boot on the floor with impatience. One level up, her daughter hastily pulled her dress over her head.

"Coming!" she shouted. After fuddling with the buttons down the back, she was finally clothed. She pulled on her shoes and ran to the mirror. She did a quick look-over, starting at the bottom.

Her black ballet flats stuck out ever so slightly form her emerald green ball gown. Her dress was new, and quite expensive. Her father, a wealthy man, had bought it for her twenty-sixth birthday. She had decided that it was perfect for an event like this.

Her blue eyes moved up to her hair. The reddish-orange mane was everywhere, resembling a lion's. In her rush to put on her dress, Rebekah had neglected to carefully mind her hair while pulling it over her head. Now the flaming mass what unpinned and frizzy. She looked at a nearby clock. She didn't have time to fix it. Instead, she simply brushed it out. She would just have to wear it long.

After she finished with her hair, she looked in the mirror. The fiery locks dangled over her bare shoulders, and went with her gown very nicely. She let out a long, unbroken breath. Now she could leave.

She left her dressing room through an off-white, gold trimmed door that also acted as an entrance to her bedroom. In there, she snatched her black above the elbow gloves, and wrestled with them until she got them on. She then sped down the stairs, barely touching the ground as she descended. Her mother stood with her arms crossed at the bottom.

"We're late," she stated coldly. Rebekah's father, Raoul, walked through the kitchen door, tying his tie as he went. Christine glared at him. "Now I know where she gets it."

Raoul looked up, his blue eyes swimming with mischief. "What?" he defended. Christine rolled her eyes at him. Raoul looked at his daughter and gave her a wink. Rebekah chuckled quietly.

Rebekah's features were identical to that of her mother's. The only differences were her hair and eye color. Christine's hair was long, wavy, and chocolate brown, while her daughter's was long, way, and orange. Christine's eyes were big and brown, while Rebekah's were big and blue, like her father's. Despite those differences, and the age difference, the mother and daughter were almost twins. But all similarities ended at their looks. Christine was meek and humble, while Rebekah was loud and adventurous.

Another thing that was different was that Christine could sing like an angel. Rebekah could sing like a bird. A dying, tone-deaf bird.

The trio exited the house and made their way to a horse and carriage. A footman helped Rebekah in, while Raoul helped Christine in, and the doors were shut. Rebekah made herself comfortable in the red velvet seats.

With a crack of the reins, and their driver's "yip", they were on their way to the Opera Populaire.


	3. Chapter Two

Before Rebekah was born, a horrific accident occurred at the famed opera house. The chandelier crashed into the stage and caught the building on fire. But there were those, who didn't believe this was an accident. There were some who believed that this was the work of the Opera Ghost. The cold heartless monster that was said to haunt the Opera Populaire so many years ago. And now it was reopening.

Rebekah's mother had been offered the lead in the new production, _Le vestale, _but she declined. Rebekah later overheard Christine telling her father that she refused to go on stage after the night of the accident. She could recall that night well, seeing as it only happened the month before.

Raoul and Christine were sitting opposite of each other, arguing in whispers. Rebekah had heard from a friend that the Opera Populaire was reopening, and had begged her mother to take her to see the beautiful opera house that her stories took place in. Christine's answer, at first, was flat out no. Then Raoul, seeing the disappointment in his daughter's eyes, decided to convince his wife.

"Just this once, Christine," he pleaded.

"No, Raoul, I can't go back to that place. There are too many bad memories," she retorted.

"I'll be right there with you. He won't take you."

"I'm not worried about him taking _me_."

Raoul stared at his shoes. He knew exactly what she meant, for he had feared the same thing at first. The beast would come steal his daughter away, and take her to his own corner of hell. He wouldn't let that happen. He was torn when Christine was almost taken from him. He didn't know what would happen if he lost his beloved daughter.

He looked back up at Christine, and said with confidence in his voice, "That won't happen. Not as long as I live."

Christine saw the certainty in his eyes. She nodded. Maybe going to the Opera Populaire would end her nightmares, and finally, she would be at peace.

Rebekah listened and watched the conversation from the stairwell. What did her mother mean her words. And her father. What did he mean by "That won't happen"? Rebekah shuddered when she remembered her mother's stories of the Opera Ghost that had taken her. If that was what they meant, and the Phantom was as genius as Christine said, was Rebekah really safe?

No one could be sure…

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**Sorry for the shortness!! The next chapter will be longer, I just wanted to clear this stuff up. Review please!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	4. Chapter Three

Christine scolded her husband and daughter for making them late.

"You two are the slowest people I know! Raoul, you knew for two weeks that we were going to this opera, and do you put your clothes together? No! And Rebekah! I can't believe that you begged and begged to go to this opera, and then on the night of it, you're painting! That's all you do, day and night!"

"I'm sorry mother," Rebekah replied innocently, "I didn't mean to make you late. It's just that I had this dream last night. There was this man, and he sang to me. When I woke up, I just had to paint him! And I was so engrossed in the portrait, that the opera slipped my mind. Forgive me."

Christine couldn't stay angry with anyone for very long. She smiled her signature smile, and then laid her hand on top of Rebekah's. She kindly stated, "Okay Rebekah, I forgive you, darling. You must show me that painting when you're done. I do adore your artwork." Then she turned to face Raoul, "So what's your excuse, monsieur?"

Raoul opened his mouth, searching for a way of weaseling out of the conflict. Before he could say anything, the carriage stopped. Rebekah looked out the window and squealed, "We're here!"

Raoul stepped out first and helped Rebekah step out of the carriage. As he did the same for his wife, Rebekah stared at the building in front of her in awe. The opera house was more beautiful than she had imagined. She spun around. "Aren't you both so excited?!"

Raoul smiled, but Christine got chills just by looking at the place. How would she manage to get inside without crying? The Vicomte, seeing his wife's terror, squeezed her and whispered in her ear, "Don't worry." The couple then followed their eager daughter to the entrance.

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**I know I promised that this chapter would be longer, but I decided that the chapters will be relatively short, there will just be more of them :] Review please!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	5. Chapter Four

Rebekah was struck with wonder when she entered the Opera Populaire. The artwork was so breathtaking that it made her heart skip a beat. She forgot about her parents completely and climbed the golden staircase, admiring statues as she went. Everything was gorgeous, from the angel covered ceiling, to the red velvet carpet. It was so overwhelming that Rebekah had to sit down. She closed her eyes and breathed it all in. Even the smell of fresh paint was beautiful.

As she exhaled, Rebekah heard a voice. A smooth, clear, and haunting voice. The same one from her dream the night before. _Christine, _it said. Her eyes snapped open and she looked all around her. No one was there. Before she could investigate further, her mother and father rounded the corner. She got up, and walked with them to their seats in Box 16. From their box, they had a lovely view of the stage, as well as a lovely view of Box Five.

As the overture began, Rebekah thought she saw something move in the box adjacent from them out of the corner of her eye. A shadow or a cloak of some sort. When she looked upon the box more closely, she saw that it was empty. She shrugged the strange occurrence off, and turned her attention to the opera.

When the lead soprano ended the show on a high G, the crowd went wild and threw roses onto the stage. Rebekah herself stood and applauded. As the curtain closed, she saw a dark figure leave Box Five. Was it just her imagination?

Raoul was the first to exit their box, followed by Christine, and then Rebekah. The three stepped down the stairs together and joined the crowd in the lobby. Noise was everywhere. Then, it seemed like the sound was muted. A voice had replaced it. _Christine. _Rebekah looked around again. No one seemed to be talking to her.

Rebekah felt too crowded. She needed to get out of the lobby and go explore. She knew that her parents wouldn't let her do that, so she told them that she needed to go powder her nose and then headed towards the bathroom. When she was out of the their sight, she changed her course and headed towards the dressing rooms instead. She needed to see her mother's old one.

She walked silently, until she found the very last door on the end. According to her mother's tales, this was it. She did a quick check to see if anyone was watching her. Not a soul was present. She extended her pale hand and touched the doorknob. After another deep breath, she turned it slowly. Then she pushed forward and darkness surrounded her. Her hands felt for a light switch cautiously. She finally found one and flicked it up. Light flooded the room.

To her left was a vanity, its drawers old and broken. On her right was a room divider, the place her mother used to get into costume. Then she looked forward. There was the infamous mirror. The very same that the Phantom had used to spy on her mother. For a second, she was paralyzed. She couldn't believe that this was happening. She never thought that she'd see the Opera Populaire, let alone her mother's dressing room! She approached the mirror slowly, glancing behind every once in a while to make sure she was alone. When she stood directly in front of it, only a foot away, she stretched out her arm, and her hand touched the cold glass.

Rebekah stared at her own reflection. _I wonder if it really does slide back,_ she thought. Her hand moved to the edge. She pulled gently.

"Rebekah!"

She spun around on her heel. She let out the breath she was holding. It was just her father.

"What do you think you are doing, young lady?" he demanded.

Rebekah stuttered, "W-w-well father, I-I-I was, what I mean to say is, uh…I wanted to see mother's dressing room, is all." She acted as innocent as possible. Raoul just glared at her.

"We're going home," he said harshly.

Outside the door, Christine was crying. Why would her daughter do that to her? Why would she look for trouble? She never should have told her about the Phantom. As Rebekah exited, she looked at the room one last time. Underneath the mirror was a glint of light. She gasped quietly. So it was true after all. Raoul turned off the light, and closed the door behind him.

The carriage ride home was filled with utter silence. The only sound was that of Christine's muffled sobs. Rebekah stared out the window until the opera house was out of view. She looked at her gloves. She had to get back there somehow, whether her parents liked it or not.

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**Oooooo, what's gonna happen next?! Even I don't know xD Review please!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	6. Chapter Five

Over the days that followed the opera house visit, the house was filled with a cold and eerie silence. Christine hadn't spoken since that night, and when Raoul tried to talk to her, she was so startled that she began to cry again. Rebekah had gone to her room after they arrived home, and she'd been there ever since. Once contained in her sanctuary, she began to paint straight away. She focused on every detail of the man in her dream, from his shadowed face, to his black cloak, to his black dress shoes.

After three days of working day and night in solitude, Rebekah's painting was finally complete. She wiped her brow with her arm, and then wiped her arm on her smock. Backing up, she got a full view of the painting. The man was so lifelike that he sent shivers down her spine. His shadowed face also added to the eeriness, making him look like he was about to jump out of the shadows.

Rebekah loved the way his burgundy vest seemed to glint in the candlelight that surrounded his body. But his face remained a mystery. What was the man hiding? Rebekah was so lost in her thoughts that she actually screamed when she heard a knock on the door.

Raoul entered hurriedly. "Are you alright?" he asked her.

Rebekah caught her breath. "Yes," she said. "You just startled me, that's all. I didn't mean to alarm you." She took off her smock to reveal a sapphire nightgown. She placed her smock over her painting gently, being careful not to smudge the colors. Raoul glanced at her easel.

"What are you painting?" he asked. He began to walk toward the covered canvas when Rebekah stepped in front of him. She tried to act casual.

"You shall see when it is finished. You know I do not let you see my artwork until it is done." Raoul nodded. He did know that. It was better to see them when they were done anyway. It gave a more awing effect. He cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, "your mother and I are about to sup. Will you please join us?" Rebekah smiled up at her father.

"Of course," she replied. "Let me wash up and change, and then I shall be down." Raoul smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him. As soon as Rebekah heard his footsteps grow faint, she pulled off the smock and admired her painting once more. Even though she had already seen it, the painting still captivated her.

She closed her eyes and imagined the man coming to her, his face emerging from the shadows. It was long and lean, with a charming smile. His voice was clear. _Christine_, he said. Her eyes opened again. She had heard the voice ever since she had gone to the opera house. She looked around the room, but not being able to find the source of the voice, she looked back to the painting. Reluctantly, she changed, washed her face and hands, and left her room.

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**Believe me, I'm as mad as you for stopping. But dinner calls. More when I get back! Review!!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	7. Chapter Six

Rebekah took her place at the table, positioned her linen napkin on her lap, and sat up tall waiting for Hilda to bring in supper. Her father sat on one end, the head of the table. On the other end, Christine was missing. Rebekah looked at her father curiously. Raoul realized what the look meant, but he stayed silent.

Hilda entered with lamb, along with several side dishes. Christine was still absent, but Rebekah was hungry. She shrugged to herself, and put small portions on her plate.

Upstairs, Christine was sleeping soundly on her king sized, satin covered bed. After three days of horrific nightmares, she hadn't had an ounce of sleep. She had drifted off shortly before supper, and Raoul, knowing about her restless nights, decided to let her sleep. He would just be sure she got breakfast in the morning. Besides, Rebekah was joining them tonight, and every time Christine saw her daughter, she burst into tears. The Vicomte didn't want Rebekah to think that she was the blame.

The blame, of course, was all on the Phantom. After the incident with the mirror, Christine couldn't stop thinking about his horrible deeds done so many years ago. She knew he was still alive and well, making his home in the sewers of the opera house. She had always known that. She could feel it, but she never thought that he would get the chance to target her daughter.

But now, he knew that she existed, and Christine knew he wouldn't stop until he got _her_ Rebekah. She had to make sure that Rebekah wouldn't ever go back to the dreaded opera house he called home.

After supper, Rebekah climbed the stairs to her room. Her father came in and told her good night. She waited a half an hour 'til she was sure that he was asleep. She quietly put her book down, slipped out of her bed, and put on her slippers. She walked up to the painting, pulled the smock off, and admired her mysterious man, smiling at him. He was, by far, her best piece of artwork.

She stared at the candle filled background. The flickering flames reminded her of the stage lights from the Opera Populaire. She had a plan. She was going back tomorrow.

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**The Phantom's a-comin'!! Hope you enjoyed reading!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	8. Chapter Seven

Rebekah awoke before her parents. She quietly put on a black simple dress, and crept downstairs. She went to the coat closet, and pulled out her green cloak. She then snuck to the study and retrieved a piece of paper and a pen. She scribbled a quick note for her parents. After pulling on her boots and lacing them up, she opened the door, being careful not to make a sound, and went out into the cold morning air. The sun was just about to rise in the cloudy sky. This created a beautiful effect of a misty colored horizon.

Rebekah stepped into the carriage waiting for her outside. It was to take her as far as the art shop. That way, when her parents asked the driver where he took her, they would just think that she had gone for more paints.

Once there, Rebekah told her driver that she would have someone send for him when she was ready. She acted as if she was browsing until he was out of sight. She darted to the curb to wait for a taxi. As one passed, she whistled it over. The driver was a dirty middle-aged man. She told him her destination: The Opera Populaire.

They made it there soon, and Rebekah, having the same awe as the last time, almost forgot to pay man. She apologized and gave him the correct amount. He drove away and left Rebekah standing at the foot of the building's stairs. She hurried up them, and through the doors. Unlike last time, she didn't stop to look at the atmosphere around her. She had a mission, and she was going to complete it.

She made her way to her mother's dressing room swiftly. When she made it there, she pushed the door open and looked straight at her reflection. She took a deep breath and advanced to the mirror. Without hesitation, she pulled it to the side until there was a crack just big enough for her to fit through. She stepped inside, and pulled the mirror closed behind her.

As she closed it, she noticed that she could see the dressing room. She figured that that was how the Phantom knew when her mother was in her room. She turned around again, and looked ahead. She began to make her way to the Phantom's cave. The tunnel was dark and damp. Water dripped on her shoulders, causing her to shiver. A thick, musty smell filled her nostrils.

She could also hear distant organ music. She noticed that it got louder as she went deeper and deeper down the tunnel. And then, the blackness seemed to swallow her as the ground gave out from below her, and she plummeted down, down, down, screaming all the way.

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**Oh my goodness! What's gonna happen?! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	9. Chapter Eight

The dark figure hunched over his organ heard a high-pitched scream. He stopped his music abruptly, and turned. His face, half covered with a white mask, had a look of anger. Who would dare to enter his lair? Disgusted and annoyed, he rose from his bench and advanced to the sound. It sounded like it had come from one of his torture rooms. Whoever the oaf down here was, must have fallen through a trap door.

He checked the first torture chamber. Empty. He checked the second and discovered the same thing. The screams grew louder though, so he knew he must be on the right track. As he approached the third and final chamber, he heard a loud splash. Someone was about to drown. He turned around to head back. He didn't need to worry about that person, they were going to die. He spun around on his heel though, when he heard a voice cry out for help. A very familiar voice.

He rushed to the controls of that room, and quickly flipped a few switches before the gate closed on her. He climbed through the small opening of the chamber, and looked down at the unconscious body sinking fast into the water. He panicked and jumped in after her.

Rebekah had no chance. She knew that she was going to die. She only wished that she had told her mother and father how much she loved them. Her breath giving out, she fell unconscious, waiting for the end. But the end never came.

The Opera Ghost carried the precious body to his home. He needed to get her warm and dry. It was cold enough down here, that she would surely freeze if wet. He laid her down on her old swan bed, and ran for blankets, towels, candles, and coals. He wrapped four blankets around her, and six towels. Then he took the coals and held them over the candles with a pair of tongs. After they were heated, he placed them at the foot of the bed, underneath the covers.

Now, all he could do was wait. He kissed the sweet face and drew the curtains. His beloved Christine had come back.

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**Keep on reading folks! Please review!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	10. Chapter Nine

Rebekah awoke toasty warm. Her eyes opened slowly to reveal where she was. It seemed that she was laying down on a bed surrounded by black draperies. She sat up a little, and began to cough until a puddle of water soaked the sheets. Then she remembered. She had almost drowned.

The Phantom heard her coughs and left his music to go to her bedside. He lifted the drapes and looked down at her smiling. Then he noticed something strange. Now that her hair was dry, he could see that it was bright red, and when her eyes opened he saw that they were blue. This was not his Christine.

Suddenly angry, he demanded, "Who are you? Why did you intrude?"

Rebekah smiled back at the man in front of her. It was the one from her painting. It had been the Opera Ghost that she had dreamt about. She searched his troubled eyes and he stared at her in confusion. Had he saved her? She couldn't remember.

She jumped at his booming voice. When she heard it, it was always calm and sweet. She stared at him in fear.

"Why, I am Rebekah de Chagny, Christine Daae's daughter. I did not mean to intrude, I just…I heard your voice, and…oh, please don't be angry with me!" She erupted into sobs. She finally had met the Angel of Music, and he already hated her.

The Phantom drew in a quick breath when the imposter said her name. That explained the resemblance. He now felt bad for yelling. He had been talking to her, thinking that she was Christine. She had only listened to him. She burst into tears, and he sat down on the bed and put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he cooed. "I did speak to you. I didn't realize it, I thought you were…I'm sorry. Please don't cry." Rebekah then threw her arms around him and cried herself to sleep. The Phantom, stunned, climbed into her bed without letting her arms slip off. Why did she trust him so much?

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**This is probably the last chapter until after Thanksgiving. The family's home and all. I'll have more for you after that though! Review!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	11. Chapter Ten

After an hour or two, Rebekah's death grip loosened, and the Phantom managed to break free of her embrace. He got up and walked silently to his organ. As he was about to play, Rebekah erupted into one of her coughing fits. This was the sixth one today. The Phantom hurried to her bedside, and waited for her to stop before leaving again. He again tried to sit down at his organ. This time he prevailed.

Rebekah's eyes fluttered open, and as she looked around her, she remembered where she was and whom she had met. She yawned, stretched, and then clambered out of her soft bed. When she got to her feet, she began to hack and cough again. She sat down and stared at the ground, waiting for the coughing to stop. After she let the fit run its course, she looked up to face the man in front of her. He was so perfect. Even his mask, which she knew hid his deformity, was perfect. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She was lost in his beautifulness.

The Phantom had dashed into Rebekah's bedroom when he heard her coughing again. He was surprised to see her out of bed this time. He looked down to face the girl in front of him. She was so perfect. Her red hair and blue eyes added so much to the beauty of his lost Christine's face. Before she could speak. He bowed in front of her.

"Forgive me, mademoiselle, about my actions earlier. I did not mean to startle you or draw your tears."

Rebekah came back to the real world when he bowed. She smiled, got up, and curtsied sweetly back. Then his perfect voice filled her ears. Although he was only talking, he sounded as if he were singing. She closed her eyes briefly to take it all in. she was sad when he finished. She would just have to get him to talk again.

"It is quite all right, good monsieur. The tears were more from the cold than your shouts. Kindly accept my forgiveness."

The Phantom was shocked that she had forgiven him so quickly. He took a step toward her. As he did, she took a small step back. He frowned and scolded himself silently.

Rebekah didn't mean to take a step back. To make up for it, she lifted her small foot and inched forward. This caused the Phantom to stumble backward. She laughed.

"Are we waltzing now?"

The Phantom smiled down at her. "If you wish it." She answered him by moving in closer and placing her hand on his shoulder. She held the other out, waiting for him to take it. He swallowed, and barely touched her waist with his gloved hand. Then he lightly clasped her other hand, and led her into a dance.

Rebekah gazed at his perfectly sculpted face as they danced. No music was actually playing, but she could still here violins making wonderful music in her head.

The Phantom tried not to look at Rebekah as they spun around, but he found that exceedingly difficult. He eventually gave up and found himself with his eyes glued to hers. He kept a steady tempo by listening closely to her heartbeats.

The two danced around and around. They were so engrossed in each other that they didn't notice how dangerously close they were to the lake. They waltzed their way to the edge, and Rebekah lost her footing and began to fall.

The Phantom, having quick reflexes, scooped her up bridal style before her toe even touched the ground. Without skipping a beat, he continued to dance with her to his organ. He set her down on his bench, and then joined her on the other side. It was time to see if she could sing as well as her mother.

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**A big thank you to all of my readers! I love that you guys like my story. Writing all this out for you guys is definitely worth it :] A big hug to lovergirl85, Lila Caffee, mirifaery, AngelicMinx, and BrokenFirePen for your lovely reviews. I should have the next chapter up soon!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	12. Chapter Eleven

The Phantom ran his fingers all along the ivory keys gently. He looked up at Rebekah and smiled. She returned it, showing all of her white teeth as she did. He was going to play for her. She could barely wait. Christine had said that the Phantom wrote the best music that she had ever heard.

The Opera Ghost began to play softly. He concentrated on every note. D, C, D, E, E, G, E, C, D, E, G. Rest. A, E, G, F, E, G, D, E, F, G, F, E, G, D. Then he began to sing. _No more talk of darkness. Forget these wide eyed fears. I'm here. Nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you. Let me be your freedom. Let daylight dry your tears. I'm here with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you. _

Now it was her turn to sing. The Phantom braced himself for whatever beautiful sound might come forth from her lips. He looked up at her, giving Rebekah her queue.

Rebekah was so lost in the Phantom's voice that she forgot about her horrible voice, and sang away. _All I ask is ev'ry waking moment turn my head with talk of summertime. Say you need me with you now and always. Promise me that all you say is true. That's all I ask of you._

And though she didn't match pitch and her voice cracked many times throughout the song, the Phantom played on. He didn't care that she couldn't sing. He loved her anyway. The moment they had begun to dance, and he looked into her beautiful blue eyes, he knew that she was the one. And she knew the same about him. He sang his part, then she sang hers, and then him again, and they finished with their harmony.

His hands slipped off the keys and he positioned himself on the bench to face Rebekah. He grinned at her, but she looked down, blushing. "I don't sing well," she admitted.

"No, you sing like an angel," he cooed. He stroked her face with his gloved hand. The fabric felt cold against Rebekah's skin, and she shivered.

The Phantom scolded himself again for moving too quickly. Seeing he was hurt, Rebekah reached up and touched the part of his face that wasn't covered. Then she moved over to the masked side. She slipped a finger behind the white mask, waiting to see what he would do.

Rebekah's hand felt soft and warm on the Phantom's cheek. He smiled and closed his eyes. He felt her hand move to his other side. As she waited to pull his mask off, he grabbed her hand, not roughly, but delicately. Without opening his eyes, he whispered, "Please don't."

Those two words were enough to convince Rebekah. Another day maybe, she would see what he was hiding. She allowed him to guide her hand down, and the two were silent.

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**I'm so sorry that I haven't written in a month! Things have just been busy with me. Thank you for bearing with me! Christmas break is coming, so I should be able to have time to write a few more chapters within the next week or two. Thank you for reading!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	13. Chapter Twelve

Christine awoke with a start after the horrible nightmare she had. She dreamt of her horrible angel that had held her captive, and almost killed the love of her life. How she hated him! She hated the way that he could control her with his voice. She hated the way he murdered those who got in his way. She just hated everything about him!

She slid out of her silk sheets and put on her slippers and her robe, then went downstairs. She yawned and sat down at the kitchen table. Through her sleepy eyes, she saw quickly scribbled writing on a ripped piece of paper. As it came into focus, she recognized the writing as her daughter's. She read slowly.

Dearest Mother and Father,

I have gone into town for some art supplies. I will be back!

Wit h love,

Rebekah

Christine stretched and smiled to herself. Rebekah and her art, she thought. Ever since her daughter was old enough to wield a paintbrush, she had a knack for art. Five of Rebekah's paintings hung around the house. Originally, there had been six, until a friend of Raoul's came for dinner and admired the painting of a beautiful pot of flowers. He bought it the very next day for 1,000 francs. He had offered 5,000, but Rebekah wouldn't take that much. She painted for pleasure, not money.

Christine turned her head as she heard her husband clomping down the stairs. His heavy, tired feet made a loud bang each time he took a step. When he came into view, she smiled up at his handsome figure. He hadn't changed much in twenty-six years. True, his hair had more grey in it, but other than that, he was just the same as when they were married.

Raoul got down on his knees so that his eyes were level with hers. He took her hands in his, brought them to his lips and kissed them over and over. "Good morning, my love. Why are you up so early?"

Christine still blushed when he did things as romantic as that. She grinned ear to ear, showing her straight, white teeth. "As to you," she replied. "Aren't I allowed to be awake at this hour? Why, it's only six o'clock!" She kissed his forehead.

Raoul got to his feet, bringing Christine with him. The two looked at each other a while, and then walked hand in hand to the kitchen. It was Sunday. That meant that they had no cook today, since they had agreed to let her take a holiday on the last day of the week. Raoul opened the pantry cupboard and located a loaf of bread and some eggs. They would do. There was bacon in the smokehouse outside, but there was new snow on the ground, and it was too cold to get Raoul outside.

Christine waited at the table, sipping the tea she had made. When Raoul was done buttering the bread and cooking the eggs, he brought them in to her. She smiled and poured him a cup of tea. They ate silently.

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**To all of those following my story,**

**I am so sorry that I didn't write over break!! I had a lot of crazy stuff happening, and I feel so bad for leaving you guys in the dark. And then, unfortunately, this chapter is just about Christine and Raoul, as will be the next. For those who have been reading, despite my lack of activity, and my poor writing: A great big thank you!! This month, I really will try to write more.**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Christine began to grow weary when Rebekah wasn't home by mid-afternoon. She sat at the kitchen table, drumming her fingers, her eyes never leaving the front door. Raoul had stopped trying to distract her from their daughter's absence long ago. Now he sat in the living room couch reading _The Song of Roland_. He licked his thumb to wet it, and then turned the page, creating the rustling sound of paper. At this, Christine jumped in her seat, and gasped. Realizing it was just her husband, she shook it off and focused her attention again to the entrance.

This went on until about six o'clock, when Raoul got up and prepared a small supper. Christine was now in hysterics. She took shaken breaths, and chewed on her nails as her brown eyes let out tears. Raoul came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She leaped up and spun around quickly, alarmed. She looked her husband in the eyes.

"Raoul, what if she…" her voice trailed off. She didn't need to finish her sentence for Raoul to know what she was thinking. He had been thinking the very same thing. She held his darling wife in his arms, and tried to calm her.

"She wouldn't do that to us, my love. It's all right. Trust me, I know," but Raoul doubted that he did know. Christine nodded, and broke away from him.

"I'm going upstairs to wash up for dinner," she said monotonously as she turned to head up the stairs. When she reached the top, she noticed that Rebekah's door was ajar. She walked up to it. She was going to shut it, but curiosity got the best of her and she entered. Her reflection stared at her in Rebekah's vanity mirror. Christine noticed something else reflected in the mirror. She turned around to see Rebekah's smock hanging over her easel. What had Rebekah been painting? Christine reached out and pulled the smock off. She let it fall to the floor and she froze. For a moment she forgot to breath. There was man in the painting. An utterly familiar one. Christine suddenly remembered Rebekah's words on their carriage ride to the opera house.

"_It is just that I had this dream last night. There was this man, and he sang to me. When I woke up, I just had to paint him!"_

Christine, realizing what was going on, collapsed to the ground. Raoul, upon hearing a loud thud from the floor above, rushed upstairs and found his wife on the ground. He scooped her up in his arms and placed her on Rebekah's bed. He didn't notice the painting beside her. He stroked Christine's face.

"Christine! Wake up, darling!" he pleaded with her unconscious body. Christine gasped and woke up. She immediately erupted into sobs.

"Raoul, he has her!! I know he does! Look at what she's been painting! It's him, I know it!" Raoul turned his head to look at the painting that she pointed to. His eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open. It really was him. Raoul knew what he had to do.

He rushed downstairs, taking three steps at a time, nearly falling. When he got to the landing, he ran to the nearest telephone. He quickly asked the operator to connect him with the police. He waited impatiently as his wife descended slowly down the staircase.

"Yes, hello? My daughter has been kidnapped, this is the Vicomte de Chagny!" he paused waiting for a response. "We believe that she's being held at the Opera Populaire. Well, beneath it actually." He listened again. "No, no ransom. Uh huh. Thank you." He hung up the phone and ran to the coat rack, threw on his coat.

"I'll be back," he yelled to Christine as he rushed out the door.

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**Bet no one saw that coming ;] I like you keep you guys on your toes. I'll be updating again soon, this time I promise!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	15. Chapter Fourteen

The Phantom and Rebekah ate silently. The Phantom had prepared them Rebekah's favorite-chicken salad. He watched Rebekah out of the corners of his eyes, as she daintily scooped bites into her small mouth. She looked at her plate, looking up every once in a while, only to have her eyes met by the Phantom's, causing her to blush and look down again.

When they were finished, the Phantom collected their plates and put them away. He would wash them later. Then he walked over to Rebekah and held his hand out to her. She took it, and he led her to the couch. She sat down, and he copied her action. For a moment neither of them spoke.

The Phantom opened his mouth once or twice to say something, but then closed it again. He found himself about to speak when he heard sirens. He stood up swiftly and motioned to Rebekah to be quiet. She nodded and he looked up, listening. The sirens were getting closer, and he had a feeling that they were heading their way. He rushed over to Rebekah, told her to get up, and then grabbed her hand, pulling her towards his mirrors. She struggled to keep up with his pace, and tripped. He turned around and scooped her up into his arms in one quick motion. He advanced to his mirrors again.

He put Rebekah down in front of the hanging velvet red curtain. He could now hear the shouts of policemen. He pulled back the drapery and pushed Rebekah inside. He turned around to see the distant flicker of torches. _They haven't fallen through a trap,_ he thought. _Raoul must be here. _He told Rebekah to stay where she was and not make a sound.

She obeyed and placed her hand over her mouth to muffle her breathing. She heard shouts outside. They were getting closer and closer. She stared wide-eyed at the curtain, waiting for the Phantom to come back. Then she heard banging and clashing. She knew that the men were in the "house". _Search behind every curtain, _she heard a familiar voice say. It was her father, Raoul. At first, she felt happy that he was here. He, surely, would let them go and tell the police that it was just a misunderstanding. But then she realized that he hated the Phantom. He wouldn't leave until he had successfully imprisoned him or killed him.

_Check behind that one over there,_ she heard him say again. She stood in her hiding space, trying not to make a sound. How long before they looked behind her curtain? And where was the Phantom? She heard footsteps outside her door, and she saw a hand reach behind the velvet curtain. She stopped breathing completely, as the curtain was pulled back. In the dark, she couldn't see who it was, but he rushed over to her, put his hand on her mouth softly and pushed her gently back the tunnel. Frozen with fear, she let him push her along until she saw a small bit of light. Then she felt a burst of cold air crawl up her legs. She shivered. _We must be going outside,_ she thought.

Finally, the two made it outside and Rebekah struggled to break free of the man's hold. She successfully broke away, and ran as fast as she could, without looking back. She heard him following her, and soon he was holding her again. She kicked her legs, trying to get away and yelled.

"Rebekah, stop," she heard him coo in her ear. She let out a sigh of relief as she turned around and saw the Phantom. She wrapped her arms around him and began to sob. She rubbed her back and tried to calm her down. "It's all right," he whispered in her ear. "It's fine, we'll find someplace else to live. Calm down." But Rebekah wouldn't stop crying. She knew that her father and mother wouldn't rest until they found her. She would never be free.

* * *

**Eh...**

**Your friend, **

**Mickey Caresen**


	16. Chapter Fifteen

The guards surrounded Rebekah, and she could only watch in terror as her father beat, and tortured her love. There was no way she could help him as he struggled to break free. He had done nothing wrong; Rebekah had come to him of her own free will. He had even saved her life! And yet, her father struck him over and over again without mercy, a cold, bitter hate in his eyes. With a final blow, it was all over. The one she held so dear was dead.

"No!" she screamed.

Rebekah awoke, gasping for breath. She looked around her. She seemed to be in a monochromatic brown room. The walls were tan, printed with dark Greek designs, and the two chairs had an olive-brown fabric and rich oak accents. She looked down at what she was sitting on. A large bed with dark brown covers was underneath her. She glanced to her right. Nothing but a wall. Then she switched her focus to her right. There, sitting up against the headboard, his eyes closed, was The Phantom.

She smiled to herself. She realized that the warm object behind her back was his arm, and she reached back so her hand grasped his. Then she inched in close so that her head rested lightly on his chest. She didn't breath for a moment as she felt his lung fill and then empty. When she did start breathing again, she tried to match her inhales and exhales to his. Her eyelids drooped lower and lower while the rhythmic sound of his heart sang her to sleep. She didn't know where she was, or how she got there, but she did know one thing. She loved this man with all her heart, and she could've lain there, listening to his heart forever.

Rebekah didn't move, even when she felt The Phantom stirring beneath her. Her hand no longer held his, and he was gently sliding her down onto the pillows once more. Once he was free of her, he got up and sat in one of the greenish chairs.

The Phantom wasn't comfortable holding Rebekah. He knew that he would lose her eventually, whether to death or to her own father. Either way, he didn't want to get hurt again. He had made that mistake with her mother, and it left him in pieces. Instead, he simply watched her with a smile, as she "slept".

With her back turned to him, Rebekah couldn't see the Phantom behind her. "Why did you get up?" she asked him softly. His eyes filled with traces of tears. It was already happening. They were already falling for each other.

He took a deep breath to send the water away from his blue eyes. He stood up again, and sat down on the bed, his feet hanging off the edge, and sighed. At this, Rebekah shifted in the cool sheets and put her head on her hand. She felt too tired to support her head with her neck. Swimming with concern, her eyes searched his.

"What is wrong?" she inquired. He just shook his head.

"Nothing," he briefly replied, his back to her. One word wasn't enough to satisfy Rebekah's need to hear his voice.

"It doesn't look like it," she said.

He turned around, placing his outstretched legs on the bed. He managed to work up a weak smile. "I'm fine, really." Then he gave her a quick peck on the forehead. It was enough to make Rebekah blush.

Feeling mischievous, she asked, "Is that all I get?" The Phantom chuckled, but his spirits soon faded when he thought of the pain he would feel later. Seeing that he was troubled, Rebekah placed her hand on his cheek, and passionately kissed him, long and tenderly. As soon as they touched, a spark seemed to start a fire within them, and they found themselves kissing each other again and again, each kiss becoming more drawn out. And it seemed that just as soon as they were touching, they were apart.

Rebekah looked down at her hands sitting on her lap. Why was he so reluctant to hold her or kiss her, when she knew that he felt the same way that she did?

The Phantom stared at the wall. Why did she want him so badly? Couldn't she see the mask on his face? Hadn't she heard the stories of him from her mother?

They both stopped asking their questions when they looked back at the same time and their eyes met. In an instant, they're lips were locked together again. Each kiss seemed to make Rebekah and The Phantom to want another, rather than satisfying them. In between kisses Rebekah breathed out words.

"I do…not…even…know your…name," she managed to get out.

The Phantom replied softly. "Erik."

Rebekah hated to stop, but she forced herself to pull away from him and look into his eyes. "Eric is my new favorite name."

He smiled slyly. He loved the way his name sounded when she said it. No one had called him by his real name in so long. Not even Christine knew his real name, and he had known her from the time she was but a child. He had only known Rebekah for a day, and yet he was more open with her than he had been with Christine.

Erik leaned in to kiss Rebekah again, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He squeezed her hand, and then rose from the bed. He crept over to the door, careful not to make a sound, and then peeked through the keyhole of the hotel room door. He turned to Rebekah and mouthed the word, "Police." She nodded and got out of the bed quietly. Luckily, Erik had gotten them a room with a window, and by chance, the window had a fire escape stairwell. Glancing behind him occasionally, he guided Rebekah to the window and opened it. He then helped her out onto the iron stairs.

Taking one last look behind him, he crawled out himself, and closed the window. Placing his arm around Rebekah's waste, he led her swiftly down the stairs. When they reached the bottom, he turned right onto a street. The midnight moon was dark enough that they couldn't be seen from the height of their room, but it was also light enough for the couple to see where they were going. After walking a few blocks, they slowed their pace.

Erik removed his arm from Rebekah's waist and put his hand in hers.

"We should find a place to get new clothes," he said. "They can't find us if they can't recognize us." Rebekah smiled up at him. His white mask seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"Sounds like a plan," she said, holding his hand a little tighter.

By the time the police got the hotel owner to bring a key up to the room to unlock it, Erik and Rebekah were already long gone. Raoul walked around the room, looking for anything that would lead him to his kidnapped daughter. He noticed the bed was unmade, a sure sign that they had been there. A small glimmer attracted him to the corner by the window. He bent over and picked up a diamond earring, the very same kind he had given Rebekah for her 18th birthday.

Raoul felt a slight breeze and saw that the window was cracked slightly. He opened it fully and looked out. The answer to where they had gone was beneath him. Fire escape stairs…

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**Oh my gosh! I am so, so, so sorry about all this! Since December I've been so busy that I haven't gotten to write often. First I got engaged, then I had to help out with church, then I had my music and art! I hope that this chapter will make it up to all of you who have read my story. I am writing another as we speak...or type :] so it should be up by the end of the day!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Rebekah packed her new clothes into her new suitcase. A few hours ago, she and Erik had bought garments to disguise themselves, and now Erik was out buying the two train tickets. The sooner they got out of France, the better.

Since she was a little frightened to be alone in the hotel room, Rebekah sang off pitch to a song her mother used to sing, humming for words or phrases she couldn't remember. _In sleep he sang to me. Mmmm. That voice mmmmm, and speaks my name._

Erik, now wearing a brown coat over a loose ivory shirt and brown trousers, smiled to himself as he listened to his angel on the other side of the door. For a few minutes, he was quiet, hoping that she wouldn't stop, but after hearing a noise behind him, he quickly unlocked the door and walked in.

Rebekah smiled up at him. Erik looked at her from head to toe and back, admiring her slender figure. She had nothing on but a chemise.

Erik chose a mint green skirt, an off-white peasant blouse, and a navy, hooded cloak for Rebekah. It was something that she would look normal in, and something that she could run in if she needed to. Plus, no one would suspect someone so underdressed to be the missing daughter of the Vicomte. The only thing, well, the only two things, that would have given them away were Rebekah's fiery hair and Erik's mask. Sensing they would be a problem, Erik had purchased a wig for Rebekah and a three-point hat for himself. He could tip it in a way that shadowed his face, so he didn't have to wear the mask, and yet no one would see his face.

Rebekah noticed Erik staring at her and the corner of her mouth curved into a half smile. She strode over to him, placing her arms around his neck, and looking up into his blue-gray eyes.

"Do you love me, Erik?" she teased.

"More than you know," he answered. They shared a quick kiss, then turned back to their packing. Erik tossed a black, straight wig onto the bed. "You'll need that," he told Rebekah.

She made a face. Wigs always made her head itch, but she sucked up her annoyance quickly, knowing that her red hair would give them away. She ripped a piece of black fabric from her old dress and used it to gather her hair into a ponytail. Then she bunched all every curly lock against her head. Since that took up both her hands, Erik picked the wig up and placed it on her head. Then he told her to spin around, and he tucked in all the loose pieces of hair. Although Rebekah looked odd with black hair, she still looked beautiful to Erik.

He pulled two tickets out of his coat pocket. "Our train boards in half an hour," he told her. She nodded and went back to packing, this time more quickly and messily. Erik did the same, but it took him half the time since his articles of clothing were easier to fit into a suitcase than hers.

Rebekah finally finished packing, put on her clothes, and just as she was about to pick up her suitcase, Erik's hand reached for it. "There's no need for you to mark or callous your fine, white hands, mademoiselle," he said smoothly. She grinned, and followed him out the door. She turned to close it, and when she spun back around, he was gone. Frantic, she searched all around, but Erik was nowhere to be found! She felt someone grab her arms roughly and push her forward down the hall. She struggled, but the person was too strong. When they turned a corner, her father came into view.

"Rebekah!" he exclaimed as he rushed over to his daughter. He hugged her and kissed her forehead. Then he ordered the person holding her to let her go, and scolded him for leaving bruises in the shape of his hand on her milky arms.

"How dare you touch my daughter that way!" Raoul yelled as he pulled off Rebekah's wig. She began to cry.

"Look what you have done!" He was furious.

"It is not what he has done, but what you have done, Father!" Rebekah sobbed. Raoul looked confused. He held his daughter gently.

"Let her go." The voice seemed to come from nowhere, but Rebekah and Raoul both recognized it. A look of sheer joy painted Rebekah's face. A look of mixed hate and terror clouded Raoul's.

"Leave us alone!" cried the Vicomte. "Stop tormenting my daughter!"

"He is not tormenting me, Father!" Rebekah tried to convince him that there was no torture or force in the situation. "I love him."

Those words were enough to melt Erik's heart and break Raoul's. His grip loosened on Rebekah, and then his hands fell from her altogether.

Leaving him stunned, Rebekah sped past the man that had bruised her, and made her way to the stairs. By the time she reached the lobby, she could hear Erik following behind her. She didn't have time to look back or explain anything to her father.

She had a train to catch.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Erik stroked Rebekah's hair. He sat upright, while she laid with her feet touching the edge of the box, her leg bent and pulled in close to her body. Her dainty head rested on Erik's lap. The poor girl had done nothing but sob since the encounter with her father, and had eventually cried herself to sleep. Dried tears formed streams down her cheeks. Rather than wipe them off and risk waking her up, he decided to just let them go. Who knew when she would next have a chance to sleep peacefully.

He traced her arm up and down, up and down. He made sure to be extra careful around her now black and blue upper arm. He made a note to himself. If he ever saw the man that had hurt her again, he would have to have a "talk" with him.

Erik yawned, feeling his own eyes drooping. He fought back his tiredness, and tried to focus. There was so much about him that Rebekah didn't know, and yet she didn't seem to care. Strangely enough, she was completely content with what she had. What she had was him, secrets and all.

He couldn't help but smile as he of the way she had told Raoul off. A part of him felt victorious, for he had completely won her over. Another part felt remorse for the poor old man they had left at the hotel. After all, no man deserved to have his daughter betray him the way she had. Erik wasn't a father, but he could imagine what it would feel like to raise someone, teach her everything he knew, and then have her leave him. He could imagine all too well what it felt like to have his heart ripped out by someone he loved and trusted.

Rebekah stirred, and Erik looked down at her, his thoughts jumbled. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, and then opened completely, revealing her beautiful blue eyes. She smiled up at him, and he grinned back.

"Good morning," she said softly. He chuckled.

"Morning? You missed morning, love." He looked out the train window. Darkness filled the rectangle of glass, and the pitter patter of raindrops tapped it gently, as if drumming to the beat of an African dance. She followed his gaze, and her eyebrows wrinkled at the sight.

"How long was I asleep?" she asked, suddenly concerned. Erik thought. She had drifted off about an hour after they had boarded the train. They had just made the train which left the station at one o'clock. That meant that she had fallen asleep at two. She remained asleep for the rest of the day and night, and then the next day. The sun had set not too long ago. He imagined it was around six. That made around 20 hours.

"Only a couple of hours," he lied. He knew that she would feel guilty for sleeping so long.

She let out a sigh of relief. She hadn't slept as long as she thought. It seemed like she had been in dreamland for days, but she supposed that this was a result of her being so tired. But why did she feel so refreshed? Suspicion rose in her head, but she decided not to press the matter. She felt too happy in Erik's company, and didn't want to spoil the moment.

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**I realize that this chapter is short, and ridiculously so, but I'm really tired, and can't write anymore tonight. I will write more tomorrow, but I figured that you'd rather have short that nothing.**

**Your friend always,**

**Mickey Caresen**

**PS. Save the date! May 14, 2011 (also my dog's third birthday) is the day that I'm marrying my wonderful fiance! I just thought I would share with any of you who care :] Haha, I made a rhyme.**


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Rebekah held the hand of Erik as she walked down the streets of Berlin. It had been three months since she had last seen her dad, and she finally felt free. No longer did she constantly have the feeling of someone following her. No longer did her stomach toss when someone looked at her. She was with Erik, and no one would take her away.

Rebekah had considered sending her father a note, apologizing for her actions, but Erik had convinced her to think against the idea. After things were settled down, they would go back to France, so Rebekah could see her parents. After all, she couldn't spend her whole life away from them.

Erik's hand felt rough against hers, soft, delicate, and white. She didn't mind though. In fact, she liked Erik's hands. Rough hands were strong hands, and strong hands could always protect her. She moved in closer, and his arm shifted to wrap around her waste. Rebekah smiled. She loved how Erik automatically moved when she did, without even thinking about it or asking.

Erik slowed his walk as they approached a restaurant. She recognized it immediately. Her and Erik ate there every Thurday, ordering the same food every time. Rebekah thought for a minute. Today wasn't Thursday, it was Wednesday. Had Erik gotten his days messed up? She shook the thought away as they entered the building. Instantly, the smell of sauerkraut filled her nostrils. Her eyes closed, and she inhaled some more. She could smell her favorite being cooked. Hasenpfeffer.

Erik led her to a table, the one they always sat in. From their seats, they could look out the window at the people walking by. Rebekah laid a napkin on her orange skirt. Erik sighed. Quickly, she looked up, her eyes swimming with concern.

"Are you alright?" she asked him. He smiled, and opened his mouth to answer, when a waitress appeared at the edge of their table. He looked up at the blonde woman, and ordered his usual, pork and sauerkraut. She followed and ordered her hasenpfeffer. After the waitress had gone, she returned her gaze to Erik.

"Well?" she inquired.

"I'm fine. Why would you think otherwise?" he answered her. Rebekah pondered his question. Something about him wasn't right. He seemed more tense, more absentminded than usual. Even as he spoke to her, he seemed to not even see her, though he was looking right at her.

"I do not know. I was just concerned." If something was wrong, she had a feeling he wouldn't tell her, so she didn't bother telling him the truth. He nodded at her response, and turned his face to the window. Rebekah just shrugged her shoulders, and looked down at her menu, trying to decide what she would get for dessert this time. After a few awkward minutes of silence between the two, the blonde came back with their food. Rebekah said a quick prayer, and began to eat very daintily.

After a lovely meal, and an even better dessert (German chocolate cake!), the couple left the establishment, and headed towards the apartment they called home. Again, they were silent as they walked hand in hand. On their way, Erik took a left when he should have taken a right. Rebekah looked up at him.

"Erik, darling, you went the wrong way," she said, her tone questioning.

"No I didn't," he replied. Rebekah wrinkled her brow in concern. Something was definitely wrong.

"What is wrong with you today?" Her question came out stronger than she had meant. Erik took it wrongly, and dropped her hand, turning to face her.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" he demanded.

"Because you've been off all day! First, we went to the restaurant," she started.

He interrupted, "You love to eat there!"

"I know, but we always go on Thursday, not today! Then you took a wrong turn, and are denying it!"

"That's because, I didn't take a wrong turn!"

"Yes you did! The apartment is that way!" She pointed towards the opposite direction.

"Did you ever think that perhaps I'm not taking you home yet?"

Rebekah looked down. "Oh," she said softly. Erik's hand slipped under her chin. He gently pulled her head up, and looked directly into her eyes. She smiled weakly. He looked away.

"You know what? I'm just going to do this now, before you freak out again."

_Do what? _Rebekah thought.

Slowly, he got down on one knee, never breaking eye contact with her. She brought her hand up to cover her gasping mouth. Erik reached into his pocket, looking down only a second; then meeting her eyes again.

"Rebekah," he said, holding the box in front of him. "Will you do me the honor," he opened the box to reveal a gold ring with a small, square diamond, "of being my wife?"

At this point Rebekah's eyes were clouded with tears, and she could feel her lips quivering. She leapt at Erik, and he met her in a warm embrace. She laughed through her sobs.

"Yes! Of course I will!"

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**I told you guys I would make another chapter today! I really hope you enjoy reading it as much I enjoyed writing it! Get ready, the climax should be coming soon :)**

**You friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**

**PS. I don't know if you guys noticed, but I wanna throw in a random fact. Rebekah never, ever, ever uses contractions. She always says the two words...Just thought you might wanna know :)**


	20. Chapter Nineteen

Rebekah awoke to the rustling of sheets. She focused her squinted eyes at the clock. From what she could tell, it was only five in the morning, way too early for her to get up. She felt Erik's body slip away from her, and she groaned. Erik quietly whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek.

"Ssh, go back to sleep." Rebekah didn't need to be told twice. In almost ten seconds, she was out like a light.

Erik crept towards the door. He looked back at his sleeping fiancé before opening it and sneaking out. After a restless night, he had finally given up on sleep. He decided to cook Rebekah some breakfast. After all, he had to pamper her, for she would be his wife in three days. Yes, they had decided to get married just a week after they got engaged. Since they were on the run, they couldn't really invite anyone, so Rebekah had chosen a dress, and they were to have a small ceremony in a local church. Though Erik felt bad about not having a huge celebration for her, Rebekah seemed completely content.

Lost in his thoughts, Erik almost burned Rebekah's egg, and quickly took it off the heat. Then he placed it on the plate with some bacon he had prepared and a bit of sausage. He didn't make anything for himself. Apparently hunger and sleep were friends that came and left together.

He walked in to find a sleeping Rebekah, her hair spread on the pillow in different directions. Erik smiled to himself as he realized what she reminded him of: A rose. Her hair formed the red petals, and her body, decked in a long-sleeved, green, silk nightgown, formed the stem and leaves. She smiled in her sleep and Erik walked lightly over to the bed. He set the plate down on the nightstand, and leaned over Rebekah.

He pecked her cheek; she stirred slightly. He kissed her again, this time on her forehead. A smile spread across her face, and she giggled.

"If that is my wake up call, I am not sure if I want to wake," she cooed. Erik grinned, and scooped her up in his arms. Then he sat on the bed, and looked down at her. Her blue eyes were now open, more radiant than ever. He closed his own eyes and pressed his lips against hers. They shared in a long kiss, and then broke away.

Rebekah, feeling rather mischievous, caught Erik unawares and kissed him again, knocking him down onto the bed, her on top of him. Erik playfully flipped her over onto her back, and twisted his torso so that his arms kept him suspended right above her. He smiled down at her, and she up at him. Erik kissed her forehead again; then got up, and held his hand out. She took it, and rose to sit on the edge of the bed.

"What's this?" she asked, looking at the food on the nightstand. Erik gently slid her back so that she sat up against the headboard. Then he handed her the plate along with a fork, and climbed onto the bed himself. He put his arm around her, and she laid her head on his shoulder. After a moment of quiet, she began to eat, her silverware clinking against the glass. Erik would've been content if he had died right there. At least he would've died happy. Then he remembered that he couldn't die.

* * *

**I realize that this chapter is really short, but I wanted to leave you with a cliffhanger :] I'll explain the last line in the next chapter!**

**Your friend,**

**Mickey Caresen**


	21. Notice!

Hey guys! My niece entered a karaoke contest on . The song with the most views wins the contest. Now, I really want her to win because she's a good singer, and I think she deserves it, so if you could watch it, I would be very happy!

Here's the link (without spaces and *s):

http:/ w w w .karaokeplay. c*om/ recordings/ my- immortal -2166062 .ht*ml

Also, if you could please send it to all your friends, that would be awesome! The leader right now has 900 views, so the more people that watch, the better.

Your friend,

Mickey Caresen

PS. I am actually halfway done with my next chapter. It really hard for me to write about Erik getting ready for a wedding…I don't know why, it just is :]


	22. Chapter Twenty

Rebekah prepared herself in the back of the church. Somehow, she couldn't get the stupid grin off her face. She seemed to be too happy to. So far, she had applied her shadow (a mix of greys and blacks) and her lipstick (bright red). Now she was brushing on a tiny bit of pink blush to make her cheeks look rosy. Her dress hung in the corner, waiting to be put on. She could see it in the mirror, and it seemed to make her smile look even more idiotic.

"You will have to wait," she told the white lace. "I must fix my hair before I put you on."

She giggled as the soft brush tickled her cheek. After she finished with her makeup, she focused on her hair. It seemed to be a little limper today, but Rebekah didn't mind. She would have it up anyway. She had experimented with several different hairstyles for the past two weeks, and had decided on a simple up-do. As she had to do was gather her hair, twist it, hold it against her head, and then pin it in place. She did just that, and while still looking in the mirror, she fished around for her barrette with her free hand. She managed to find it without too much of a struggle, and she clipped in her hair. She looked at herself, checking from all the angles she could. The barrette was in place, and her hair was flat – well, as flat as it would get – against her head. Something was missing though.

Unsure of whether it was a good idea, she pulled a lock of hair from the comfort of its fellow hairs, and let it fall in front of her shoulder. She checked again. Now she was ready.

Whirling around, she stood for a moment and just stared at the wedding dress in front of her. She smiled, imagining herself walking down the aisle with it on, Erik waiting for her at the end. Gently, she took it off its hanger, and lifted it above her head, slipping her arms into the sleeves. Careful not to mess up her hair, she pulled the dress down over her slender body. She then smoothed out any creases, and looked at her reflection. She couldn't help but gasp (even though she'd seen the dress on before) at the stunning girl looking back at her, wide-eyed and smiling.

The simple white hugged her body, showing off every curve she had. Her long sleeves clung tightly to her upper arms, and then loosened their grip when they reached her elbow, flowing gracefully when she moved her arms. Her pale skin shown from shoulder to shoulder, the dress being a boat neck, and looked whiter than usual against the dress material. The definite outline of her breasts and hips was almost perfect. The dress's train flowed out behind her. A single white ribbon tied around her waistline came together in a bow in the back. She looked down and wondered why she had spent so much on her shoes; you couldn't see them. Still, Rebekah was very pleased with how she looked. She walked over to the side table and picked up the diamond earrings and necklace sitting on it. After fastening them on, she picked up her engagement ring. She looked at it, thinking about Erik giving it to her. Her smile disappeared. It suddenly hit her.

She was getting married today.

Erik pinned his boutonnière to his suit jacket. For the occasion, he had put on his slicked back, black wig and had gotten a new black tuxedo. He finished with his cravat made of shimmering white satin. Rebekah had talked him into not wearing his mask, a deed that was not easily done. But after hours of looking into her big, blue eyes, he had given in. It was going to be a quick ceremony anyway, so it wasn't that big of a deal. Since he and his bride to be wanted to get away as soon as possible, not only because they were anxious for their honeymoon, they had agreed on a simple exchange of vows. The actual wedding would be about fifteen minutes long and would have the minimum of two witnesses, their usual waitress from their favorite restaurant, and a man who had returned Rebekah's hat when it blew away in the wind. It would be simple, but still wonderful.

Erik looked at himself in his small mirror. Despite his hideous face, he did think he looked quite good. The left corner of his mouth curled in a half smile. After this day, Rebekah would be his and no one else's.

The priest walked through the door and told Erik it was time. Erik took a deep breath, and followed him to his place at the altar. Rebekah waited at the end of the aisle, her face covered in a veil. He felt tears well up in his eyes, and he folded his hands behind him.

Rebekah was already crying when she got to the back of the church, and looking up to see her soon to be husband didn't help. Although she walked down the aisle gracefully as quickly as possible, everything seemed to be in slow motion, and it seemed like an eternity until she finally took Erik's hand on the altar. He removed the veil from her face, and gasped at her beauty. She smiled, blushing, and looked him deeply in his grey-green eyes. The priest spoke, but neither of them heard what he was saying. They were brought back into reality when the priest tapped Erik's shoulder.

Erik turned, and the priest repeated his last sentence to which Erik replied, "I do." He then reread the vows for Rebekah, and she also replied, "I do."

Erik didn't wait for the priest's consent to kiss his bride. Their lips locked in a

long, passionate kiss, and Rebekah brought her hands up around Erik's neck. The two guests clapped, and the newlyweds turned, smiling and nodding their heads in appreciation. Then Erik scooped his new wife up in his arms, and carried her out of the church. A coach awaited them with their luggage, and Erik placed Rebekah inside, then walked around to the other side.

Then the driver shouted to his horses and they started their journey to the train station where they would travel the rest of the way to Spain where they would spend their month long honeymoon, and possibly their lives.


	23. Chapter Twenty One

**SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! I have been super busy, and I apologize. Hopefully now that things have calmed down, I'll be able to do a chapter a week. I know this one is short, but it's essential the plot. I assure you, craziness is to come.**

**Since I haven't done one of these in a while...**

**DISCLAIMER: I only own Rebekah, and Gerard ;] The Phantom belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber and Gaston Leroux(sp?)  
**

* * *

Erik awoke to find Rebekah in his arms. He smiled to himself as he remembered the previous day, or more importantly, the previous _night_.

_So it wasn't a dream_, he thought, pulling his wife closer. He liked how that sounded. Rebekah, his wife. She was legally his. And he didn't even have to force her into it! It felt good to have someone accept him the way he was. He smiled, gently released her, and silently slipped out of their exceptionally large bed, pulling the covers over her. She squirmed ever so slightly, but slipped into a deep sleep quickly after that. Finding a robe and putting it on, he stepped lightly into the dining room, and sat down at the table. He had a lot to think about before Rebekah woke up.

You see, there was a reason why Erik hadn't aged since Christine first came to the opera house as a small girl. Soon after discovering that he cared for Christine, he began working on an elixir that would stop the aging process, essentially making him immortal. He continued taking it every week, even after Christine left him, in hopes that she would return to him someday. Now he had to decide whether he should stop taking it, and age along with Rebekah, or if he should let her in on his secret so they could live together forever. Did Rebekah want to grow old with him? Or did she wish to stay young? And if they were to have children, would they take the elixir? It was too much for him to think about alone. He knew he would have to tell his wife sooner or later, but he much rather preferred the latter. Until then, he wouldn't take his weekly doses.

He nodded to himself, accepting this decision, then rose from the table. Rebekah would likely be hungry when she woke. She hadn't eaten breakfast the day before – she didn't want to get sick at the wedding – nor lunch, and when they had arrived at the honeymoon suite, dinner seemed to be at the bottom of their list of priorities. He quickly rounded up some eggs, bread, cheese, and ham. He scrambled the eggs, added the ham (which he had diced), and then melted cheese over it all. He then cut two slices of bread. While his eggs finished up, he called down to the front desk and ordered cold milk to be brought up. As he waited, the sizzle of hot food filled his ears, resembling the crash of cymbals.

Rebekah slowly awoke to the smell of cooking food. She reached her hand over to find Erik missing. That man treated her too well. She sat up, and looked around as she stretched her arms, and scratched her head. She removed the covers from her bare body, and searched for her hairbrush. While she was looking for it, she found a sheer nightgown, and silk slippers. She put them on, then after finally locating the brush, she combed through her messy hair. Creeping out of the room, she spotted Erik with his back to her. She smiled mischievously, and snuck up behind him. Right as she was about to spring, he spun around, and trapped her in his arms, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. She moaned with pleasure as he slipped in his tongue. This was something he hadn't done before. _Apparently marriage has a lot of perks_, she thought.

Erik reluctantly pulled away as the doorbell rang, and when he moved. Rebekah caught the scent of eggs and ham full on. Her stomach growled loudly in need of sustenance. Erik quickly returned with a jug of milk, and he poured them two glasses.

"Sit," he whispered in Rebekah's ear. She closed her eyes and smiled before taking a seat at the table. Was this wonderful man really hers? She sat up straight, waiting for Erik to place a plate in front of her. When he did, she waited for him to sit before she took a bite, even though her stomach was protesting. They ate in silence, but there was no need for words, just as there hadn't been last night. It reminded Rebekah of their first dinner together, for she kept catching Erik looking at her, causing her to blush and look away. When they were done, Rebekah tried to do the dishes, but Erik insisted that she go sit on the sofa. She did as he asked, and waited for him again.

Erik sat on the sofa beside his new wife, and just looked at her, taking her all in. His grey-green eyes traced every curve. Last night, he hadn't really been looking at her with his eyes, but more with the eyes of some lustful beast inside him. He had felt like a different person completely. Now he saw the true beauty in her body through the nightgown that she wore. He appreciated every blemish. Rebekah blushed again, noticing his analysis. He smiled at her, then slid over so that he was just inches away, their lips begging to touch. He brought his hand up, and brushed her full, pink lip with his fingers. She wound hers in his hair, trying to pull him closer, but it was no use, he was stronger. He grinned at her struggling and pouting. Finally, as if lighting the fuse of a cannon, he pressed against her, and she lost composure, and managed to catch him off guard, sending them both tumbling to the floor with a loud thud. She giggled and kissed him with the same fire and longing she had had the night before. Now that they were both fed, their energy was back, and they both had the same idea about how to burn it off.

**

* * *

**

**Sexy, sexy! This was a fun chapter to write, and I think it helped build up my muse. Until next time!**

**Mickey  
**


	24. Chapter Twenty Two

**Oh my gosh, you guys! I'm not dead! And neither is this story! Merry Christmas to you all, and a Happy New Year as well! I hope that you didn't have birds hitting you on the head this holiday, as it seems that we have been having some odd weather lately...I'm sorry that this chapter took so long, but for some reason, I just couldn't finish it! But now I'm back, and filled with more muse than ever, especially since I know exactly what the rest of the story is. Expect about a chapter a week! Now without further ado, read away!**

* * *

The first month of married life treated Rebekah and Erik well. They seldom had an argument, and when they did, it was over something minor, and apologies soon followed. The second month was the same, as was the third. They spent most of their time at the cottage in Spain they called home, for life outside its walls seemed boring to them when they had each other.

It wasn't until the fourth month, however, that Rebekah noticed something odd. She hadn't gotten her usual "monthly visit" twice now, and her waistline seemed to have increased in size. At first, she had simply passed off her missed periods as natural. She had been exercising a lot more lately, and she had heard that that could stop them. She had also linked her growing stomach to her overeating.

So when her mind finally put everything together one day, she dropped the vase of flowers she was holding, and it crashed to the floor, spilling its contents all over. The loud noise it made didn't shake Rebekah though. She turned her eyes to an astonished Erik who had appeared at her side and smiled. He furrowed his brow. His wife didn't usually act like this. Then Rebekah did something else that shocked him. She laughed. Only a little at first, but her giggling soon grew and she flung her arms around Erik. Confused, he returned her embrace, and found him laughing with her. Then, very carefully, he picked her up, stepped over the glass, went into the living room, and set her on the couch.

"What is it, my love?" he questioned. She smiled up at him.

"Oh my darling," she whispered, placing her hand in his hair. "We are going to have a baby."

Erik's mouth dropped, and a dumbfounded expression covered his face. Rebekah had to literally shake him out of his daze. After realizing what had just been said, he grinned ear to ear and scooped Rebekah up and spun her around.

"We're going to have a baby!" He exclaimed. Rebekah had never seen him so enthusiastic. Things seemed perfect, when Erik abruptly stopped spinning. His face fell, and Rebekah looked up at him with worry in her eyes.

"We're going to have a baby," he repeated, only his happiness had been replaced with anguish. Rebekah was horrified. She had never heard him talk like this.

Erik slowly sunk to his knees, bringing Rebekah with him.

"My love," Rebekah pleaded, her voice filled with concern, "what is the matter?"

Erik stared at the ground. "Isn't it obvious?"

Rebekah's brow showed concern. Obviously, it wasn't obvious. She had no idea what would make him this sad about having a baby. A perfect little baby. One that looked just like…

_Oh,_ she thought. Erik was afraid of passing his deformity to their child. Rebekah was overflowing with sorrow. She took Erik's face in her hand, and kissed the right side.

"Darling," she whispered, "do you not see?" He looked up. "Chances are that will not happen, and even if it does, what difference does it make?

"I love you just the way you are, and I will love our baby just the way he is," she smiled. "You should know that by now."

Erik simply nodded, kissed Rebekah's forehead, and left her. She could hear a piano being played a little later as she picked up the glass shards and mopped up the water on the kitchen floor. She decided not to rush her husband into accepting their future bundle, since it wasn't due for another seven months. She knew that in time, hopefully by the next day, he would be fine.

But Erik did not speak to her again that night until bed when he crawled in beside her and whispered a good night. The same thing happened the next day. Erik spent his day in his study, playing piano, and Rebekah cleaned the house and read her book.

Finally after a week of silence, Rebekah decided to act. She was sick of Erik acting like a child. She found him in his study, as usual, hunched over his piano. She stood in the doorway, and cleared her throat. Loudly.

He looked up, obviously startled, and smiled weakly when he saw it was her. He turned back to his music then, which really set Rebekah over the edge. Never make a pregnant woman angry...

Rebekah cleared her throat once more, this time raising her eyebrows in an intimidating manner when Erik turned. "As your wife, Erik, I believe that I am to be respected by you, and therefore, you will look at me when I ask your attention," she stated sharply.

Erik, taken aback by her sudden hostility, showed confusion. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't realize you wanted to speak with me."

Rebekah scoffed. "Speak with you?" she demanded. "Do you even know the meaning of the word? You have not said more than a few words to me for the past week! When are you going to stop being immature, and man up to your responsibilities?"

Erik shrunk in his piano bench. No one had ever stood up to him like this. Not even Christine's accusations on that night so many years ago could compare to this.

"And furthermore," Rebekah continued, "this baby is coming whether you want it to or not, so you might as well get used to it. Perhaps if you did not want a child, you should not have been so seductive, and none of this would have ever happened."

At this, Erik stood up, and stepped toward his distressed wife. "Don't think for even a second that I don't want to have a son or daughter, especially with you! I'd love seeing you in that baby, and I'd love seeing you be a loving mother. All that I'm concerned for is that this child will have to hide from the world, just like I had to. I wouldn't wish this face onto my worst enemy, let alone to someone I loved and cared for!"

Rebekah's fury seemed to wash away. She really hadn't meant to make her husband angry or sad, she was just so. So.

Mad.

She took a deep breath, and closed the gap between them with three steps. She looked up at him, and then she took his hand in hers and kissed it. She then placed it on her face, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. She smiled up at Erik. Erik smiled down at her.

He placed his other hand on her stomach, and though no words were spoken, the matter of the baby was resolved.

* * *

**So, what did you think? Reviews are welcome, but not necessary. Also, do you guys want a Christmas chapter? I'll write it if you want.**

**Much love in this holiday season,**

**Mickey Caresen  
**


	25. Chapter Twenty Three

The date was December 21, and Rebekah's face had a smile spread across it. She placed her white hand on her bulging stomach. She was five months along now, and she could already tell that the baby was going to be a quiet little girl or boy. It rarely kicked, and when it did it was very lightly. Erik always joked and said that the baby was just biding its time and saving its energy. As soon as it came out into the world, it was going to wear Rebekah out with crying, crawling, and everything else that babies did. Rebekah wasn't too worried.

However, today was different, or tonight, rather. The baby was kicking so much and so hard that Rebekah had to get out of bed. So Rebekah slipped out of bed, kissed Erik's cheek, and opened the bedroom door quietly. She then crept to the kitchen to get a little midnight snack. And it's a good thing she did, or she would've never seen the calendar. Life had been so quiet and peaceful lately that Erik and Rebekah never bothered checking the date. When you had nowhere to be, why did you need to know what day it was?

Rebekah smiled as she munched on some toast that was left over from dinner. Christmas had always been her favorite time of the year. She loved the giving, and the love in the air that seemed to be contagious. She couldn't wait until Erik woke up so that she could tell him the exciting news, and they could get a tree and other decorations for the cottage. A few hours later, however, that wasn't exactly what happened.

:~Җ~:

Erik woke up to find his wife gone. His instincts automatically feared that she had run away in the middle of the night, finally realizing that she didn't actually want him, so he was relieved to see her reading on the sofa. He raised an eyebrow when she got up, rushed over to him, and took his hands in hers. She giggled at that, and kissed him on the lips for a long time. Then she pulled away, and put her arms around him. She then whispered in his ear.

"Do you know what today is?" she asked him softly.

Erik thought for a while. Was it their anniversary? Had he forgotten? No, that wasn't for another two months. Was it her birthday? No, that had been a few weeks ago. Was it his birthday? Certainly not. Even he didn't know when his birthday was, how could she? Giving up, he asked, "What, my darling?"

She laughed again. "Why, it is four days before Christmas!" she said excitedly. When he didn't react right away, she repeated herself, this time saying it more slowly. He still just looked at her as if she had gone crazy. She cocked her head to the side. "Do you not know what Christmas is, you silly husband?" she said jokingly.

He only sighed. "I may have heard of it before."

Rebekah laughed again, this time nervously. "You are surely joking."

He only shook his head. Rebekah's jaw dropped, and she stepped back a bit. She had literally never met anyone who hadn't celebrated Christmas before. It took her a few seconds to pull herself together. She smiled again brightly.

"Well then," she said, "we will just have to make this the most spectacular Christmas ever!"

Erik smiled, but it didn't reach his grey-green eyes. Rebekah knew something was amiss. "What is wrong?"

Erik sighed once again, then paused a moment before he spoke. "I've never celebrated Christmas, because I chose not to."

"How could you choose not to celebrate Christmas? It's a wonderful time when everyone is nice to each other, and they sing Christmas carols, and everyone goes to midnight mass to celebrate the birth of Christ, and..."

"I don't believe in God," Erik interrupted. The surprise of that statement smacked Rebekah in the face.

Her mouth agape, she stuttered, "You d-d-do not b-believe in G-G-G..."

"No, I don't," he answered before she could finish. Rebekah stared at the mahogany floor.

"But," she waited a moment, "why?"

Erik simply replied, "Isn't God supposed to be merciful, fair, and loving?"

Rebekah nodded.

"Then why, oh why, did he give me this?"

He pointed to his face in disgust. Rebekah opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the right words. Instead she took Erik's face in her hands, and just held them there for a good long while. Finally she thought of something to say.

"Erik," she started softly, "if you did not have this face, then you would not have me."

They locked eyes in this moment, and Rebekah smiled. "Just think," she said, "you would be off somewhere with your music. You would be rich and famous. We would have never met, and this," she took his hand and placed it on her stomach, "would not exist." Erik grinned ever so slightly.

"For your sake, I will celebrate this Christmas, but not for mine," he said in a flat tone. And then he walked past Rebekah, brushing her arm. She heard him go back to his study, and begin to play. She just stood there for a long while, perplexed. She couldn't believe that she had married a man that didn't celebrate Christmas.

In that moment, she made up her mind. She was going to make this the best Christmas ever, and Erik would be so amazed that he would believe. She would show him.

:~Җ~:

The next day, Erik took Rebekah into the forest. After a long time, she finally found the perfect tree. Erik, who had brought an axe, moved Rebekah out of harm's way, and swung at the tree until it fell to the ground. It was small, so he was able to drag it by himself, while Rebekah trailed beside him. She smiled to herself. This was only the beginning.

Once they got home, Erik set the tree up and tried to get away before Rebekah could rope him into decorating. Needless to say, he was unsuccessful in his attempt, and he found himself circling the evergreen with tinsel. This was his idea of torture. When all was done except for the star, Erik sat down in his chair. Rebekah only looked at him, confused.

"You are not finished, you silly man," she joked. She laughed and pulled a gold star from one of the box of decorations. "It was always tradition in my family that the man of the house be the one to put the star on top of the tree, and I do not intend to break that tradition."

With those words, she handed him the star. He looked at it for a little while, turning it over in his hands, and admiring the shine it had. He walked over to the little tree, and reached his arm up. He wasn't quite tall enough, so he had to stand on his tiptoes to place the star in its place. At this, Rebekah wanted to laugh, but she restrained herself. The last thing she needed was a grouchy husband with only three days left till Christmas. When he plopped down in his chair the second time, she decided to save other decorating for the next day.

* * *

**Don't worry! I'm not finished! This will turn into a two part chapter, if not three. You see, this story is going to be over pretty soon, so I'm making this chapter longer, so you guys have a little more to read. I hope you like it so far! More Erik torturing in the near future! Muahaha!**

**Love,**

**Mickey  
**


	26. My Apologies

Oh my gosh. I know you probably don't want to hear excuses, but here they come.

1)I was in England visiting my sister all last month. I didn't have my documents for reference over there.

2)I came back, only to find that my brother had given the computer a "make-over," so as of now, I have none of my files.

As for before both of these instances, I was just lazy and had no muse, so I apologize for that. I promise, however that I WILL finish the Christmas chapter, and you will see the end of the story shortly after that.

Til then, sorry….

Mickey


	27. Chapter Twenty Four

Erik woke to the sound of a crackling fire and bells jingling. Confused, he arose and made his way out of the bedroom. His tired eyes squinted past to sunlight to see Rebekah hanging garland with silver bells along to mantle. She turned around to see him, and she smiled before clutching her stomach. Erik immediately was at her side, his arm around her waist.

"Are you alright?" he asked anxiously.

She answered, "Yes, I am fine. The baby just kicked, that is all." Erik eased up on his grip, and helped her finish her work on the mantle. They worked in silence till they were done, and then Rebekah, though Erik protested, made them breakfast. After they ate, Rebekah cleaned. Erik watched her, ready to jump up if she showed any sign of pain again. She didn't grab at her stomach again though, so he didn't rise until she finished. He pulled her into a kiss and held her there for several seconds, finally breaking off when she jumped.

Again, he asked her what was wrong. Again, it was just the baby kicking.

For the remainder of the day, Erik and Rebekah hung up the stockings that Rebekah had made, made homemade eggnog – one alcoholic batch for Erik, one non-alcoholic batch for Rebekah – and strung popcorn to put up around the house.

It didn't take long for Erik to gulp down six eggnogs, and by the time he was on his seventh, he was acting pretty strange. Rebekah of course noticed this, but she decided to let him keep drinking. He needed to loosen up. Tomorrow was Christmas Ever after all.

It wasn't until Erik actually tripped over his own feet that Rebekah cut him off.

"No more for Mr. Phantom," she said, trying to hold him up as he hung on her shoulder.

"But why?" His speech was slurred, and Rebekah had to hold in a giggle.

"Just because. It is time for bed anyway." She started to lead him to the bedroom. She spun around when she heard a loud bang. Her fist thought was that he had fallen again. Fortunately, he had just smacked his hand against the wall. She shook her head and continued on, until he did it again. Again, she looked behind her. After the fourth time, she stopped looking back, and just dragged him down the hall.

By the time they were in bed, Erik's eyelids were drooping, but he had a Chesire Cat smile on his face. This time Rebekah couldn't stop herself from laughing. Confused, Erik asked, "What?"

She laughed again. "Just you," she said. "You're just funny."

He smiled again. "Thank you."

He fell onto the bed, dragging her with him. Now they both were laughing. Finally they stopped, and silence filled the room.

"You know, Erik," Rebekah said, "it does not matter that you do not believe in God. As long as you love me, I do not care if you worship your piano or a quill. I am sorry that I freaked about it earlier. Do you forgive me?"

Silence.

"Erik?"

Silence.

"Is that a no?"

Suddenly a loud snore echoed off the walls, and Rebekah jumped before laughing. She pulled the covers up around him, and snuggled in beside him. Today had been a good day.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay everyone! It wasn't right for me to have you all wait this long! Well, I hope this chapter is good enough for you. It made me laugh when I wrote it, so I hope it makes you laugh when you read it. There will be the third and final part of the Christmas chapters, and then I will have one more chapter, followed by an epilogue. If I forget to say this later, I just want to thank you guys for sticking with me for this long! You are all awesome, and it just tickles me to see the stats this story has and reading your great reviews!**

**Your friend always,**

**Mickey**


	28. Chapter Twenty Five

It was Christmas Eve, and the couple sat on the floor by the fireplace. The man had his legs crossed in the Indian-style position, and the woman's own legs were stretched out away from her, her head on the man's chest. He stroked her hair absentmindedly, while he read her poetry. Her puffy eyelids drooped over her red eyes, a result of countless nights crying herself to sleep.

* * *

It was Christmas Eve, and the couple sat on the chaise lounge. The man had his arms wrapped around the woman on top of him. He rubbed her enlarged belly absentmindedly, as he sang her a soft lullaby. Her eyelids drooped over her smiling eyes, a result of all the joy she had felt in the past few days.

* * *

The man noticed the woman's soft snores and closed the book he was holding. Gently, he picked her up and headed towards their bedroom. He laid her down easily on the bed and brought the covers up around her. In her sleep, she took in a breath, smiled ever so slightly, and breathed, "Rebekah." The man stood, frozen by her words. A tear slid down his cheek as he climbed into the bed beside his wife.

* * *

The man noticed the woman's soft snores and lowered his voice to no more than a whisper. He continued to sing as he lifted her, careful not to disturb her stomach, and carried her to bed. He laid her down, brushing a stray hair from her cheek. She stirred a bit then, and he stood frozen as she whispered, "Mother." The man felt guilty and sad as he got into bed with his wife.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, I know this is not long at all, but I was aiming for more of a one-shot than a chapter, you know? Ah well. So to those who care, technically my last name is no longer Caresen (I'm now a married woman), but I'm going to leave it like that so as not to confuse anyone. I'm on my honeymoon right now, so I'll likely not put up another chapter until I get home. Any guesses on where I am?**


	29. Chapter Twenty Six

The next day, Erik awoke to the sound of violent coughing. He turned his head to see that Rebekah wasn't beside him. Despite the early hour (it was still dark outside), he got up out of the bed to search for his wife. He found her curled up in a blanket beside the fireplace shivering. He rushed over to her shaking form and held her in his arms. Her skin was flushed and hot, and her eyes were red. She turned away from him to cough again, and he held her tighter as she hacked up a storm.

In between coughs, she managed to get out a "Sorry for waking you up." Erik just shook his head.

"No trouble at all, my dear." He held his hand to her forehead. She was burning up. Quickly, he moved her from the floor to the couch, and then he went to retrieve some more blankets. After he had wrapped them around her, he hurried to fetch the kettle to prepare some hot water for tea. After all those cough attacks, her throat had to be raw.

When the water was boiled, and the tea was ready, Erik sat on the lounge beside Rebekah with his arm around her. She sipped her tea in between coughs and shivers. Finally after about an hour, the coughing stopped long enough for the couple to have a conversation.

"Merry Christmas," Rebekah said with a smile on her sickly face. Erik smiled back, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Merry Christmas to you, my love," he said. "Would you like your present now?" Rebekah nodded her head as enthusiastically as she could.

"And while you are over there," she said, "get yours. It is in the left side of the tree."

Erik obliged and returned to her side with two wrapped boxes, one dressed in bright green and the other in silver. He handed the silver one to Rebekah, and they both tore in, tearing the shiny paper off their gifts. Rebekah stared in awe at the two bracelets in her hand. They both had beautifully carved wooden beads and a silver charm.

Erik pointed to the one with the paintbrush charm and said, "This one is yours." Then he pointed to the other which had a flute charm and said, "This one is for our baby."

Rebekah placed her hand on her stomach and tried not to cry. "Oh Erik," she choked, "they are beautiful!" Erik stroked her cheek and smiled. Then he looked down at his gift. Gingerly, he took the wooden box with the figurine into his hands. He traced the details of the man playing the piano with his fingers, smiling. He turned to Rebekah, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Open it," she sputtered. He did as he was told, and music began to play. He recognized the tune as his own, and he smiled even more. Closing the box and setting it beside him, he took Rebekah's chin in his hand and kissed her. When he pulled away, he helped her put her bracelet on. By now, it was beginning to lighten outside, so Erik decided to make breakfast. For himself, made eggs and toast, and for Rebekah, he made cinnamon honey oatmeal. They both ate on the couch, and talked about their gifts and how much they loved them. It was during this time that Rebekah dropped her bowl, causing it to shatter on the ground, and cry out in shock. Erik was on his feet in a second, his brows knotted in concern and confusion.

"What is it?" he asked. Rebekah looked up at him with her mouth hanging wide open.

"My water just broke."


	30. Chapter Twenty Seven

Rebekah screamed in agony and squeezed her husband's hand. Her contractions had been happening since the day before shortly after her water had broken. She was weak now, between her contractions and coughing fits. Erik had remained by her side the entire time, only leaving her to get wet rags or glasses of water. The poor man was terrified for his wife. He just wished he could take the pain away from her, but all he could do was sit and watch. He felt truly worthless.

Rebekah shrieked again, louder than she had before. "Erik!" she screeched. "I need to push!" Erik took his place by her legs and waited for the baby. Rebekah's screams could be heard throughout the forest they were surrounded in. She grunted as she pushed for the first time, panting when she finished. Erik reached out and took her hand again. She nearly turned it purple as she pushed for a second time. This went on for nearly a half hour, before Erik could see the baby's head.

"You're almost there Rebekah!" he told her excitedly. She began to cough again, making her whole body shake. When the coughing ceased, she pushed again, the veins on her face popping out. This final push was all it took for the baby to emerge from its mother crying. Erik took the babe into his arms and snipped the umbilical cord. Then he cleaned the blood off of his newborn daughter and handed her to his wife.

Rebekah weakly smiled down at her baby. "My little girl," she said softly. Suddenly, Rebekah started to lose consciousness, and Erik took the baby before she was dropped. He looked down at the end of the couch to see that Rebekah hadn't stopped bleeding. The coughing must've caused Rebekah to hemorrhage. He created a cot for his daughter and set her down, and then he attempted to stop Rebekah's blood flow. Then, Rebekah's eyelids fluttered open for a moment, and she whispered, "I love you Erik."

Through tears, "I love you too, my darling. Stay with me!" But it was too late. Rebekah was gone.


	31. Chapter Twenty Eight

Erik patted the last of the dirt into place and wiped his brow. He stared at the newly formed mound in longing. He wished he could follow her into the grave. Besides his daughter, whom he had not yet named, he had nothing to live for. He turned from his wife's grave and faced the priest who had just finished his prayers. The priest gave Erik a weak smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, my son," he said. Then he turned from the grave, and began to walk towards the church.

Erik shifted his eyes to the nun that was holding the baby. She gave him a questioning look. He nodded, signaling that he was ready to take back his child. He held out his arms, and the sister placed the little bundle in his hands. She then bowed her head briefly before following the priest to the church.

Erik looked down at his daughter's face. She stared up at him with dark blue eyes, so dark that her pupils seemed to disappear into her irises. A small, but distinct, tuft of dark brown hair lined her head. Erik smiled, and stroked her cheek. She blinked and squirmed. Erik headed off to find a wet nurse for his daughter, and then he would head back to France. He knew what he had to do.

Christine and Raoul lay in bed, neither of them sleeping. They both simply stared up at the ceiling, each lost in their own thoughts. A knock at the door brought them back out of the clouds, and Christine jumped.

"What was that?" she asked her husband, startled.

"Someone knocked at the door," he answered. "Who would be here at this hour?" He looked at the large clock in the room. It was nearly eleven thirty. Nevertheless, he swung the covers of his legs and got out of bed.

Christine listened to his footsteps as he made his way down the stairs. She heard him open the front door and gasp.

"You!" he shouted. Christine was up and out of bed in no time. She rushed down the stairs and to her husband's side, and she couldn't believe what was in front of her.

"Hello Christine. Raoul." The man said. "Allow me to explain. I loved your daughter very much, and I don't know why, but she loved me as well. Last year, we were married."

Christine's mouth dropped. How dare he come to her house and speak lies to her!

"You!" she said angrily. "You monster! We know that you kidnapped her! We know you brainwashed her with your tricks!" She stepped out the door and advanced him. He stood his ground. As she got closer, yelling all the way, she noticed something in his arms. She squinted, trying to make out the shape.

"What is that?" she demanded. The man just held the object out, asking Christine to take it.

"Here," he said. Christine gingerly took the bundle. "Rebekah is dead. She died giving birth to our daughter, the very babe you hold in your hands. I cannot care for her. She belongs with you two."

Christine looked down in disbelief. The child looking up at her was no doubt her daughter's. She could see Rebekah and the man in the little girl. The baby cooed, and Christine smiled. She looked up to say something to the man, but he was already gone.


	32. Epilogue

"And that, my darling, is the end of the story."

Christine brushed out her granddaughter's brown, wavy hair, then helped her put her nightgown on. When the girl was ready for bed, she turned around and placed a kiss on Christine's cheek before smiling up at her. She then ran and jumped into her bed. Christine followed her and tucked the covers in around her. She kissed her forehead, and then turned to leave the room.

"Grandmother." The girl's voice caused Christine to stop. She turned towards her granddaughter.

"What is it Rebekah?" she asked softly.

"Do you miss her?" the girl replied. "My mother, I mean?"

Christine sat down at the foot of Rebekah's bed. "Of course I do, my love," she said, placing a hand on her cheek. "But you know what?"

Rebekah looked up at her curiously with her eyebrows raised above her blue eyes.

"When I look at you, I see her," Christine said with a smile before leaving the room.

* * *

**And that, my darlings, really is the end of the story. I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to read, and I'd like to give a special thanks to those who reviewed. Your words really motivated me to continue writing, and for that, I thank you. I'm sorry for how long it took to finish this story, but I think it was worth the wait. I certainly enjoyed writing it. I hope I didn't make anyone hate me too much for my ending, but I'd been planning on that ending since I started writing. Please check out my other stories, if you will. Thank you again!**

**Mickey Caresen  
**


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